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Monday, December 30, 2013

In memory of Nancy Richey Ranson, who died in Dallas, Texas on this date in the year 1972 . . . in her own words . . .

I had not known time moved so swiftly past,Nor counted seconds, flying one by one;I knew just hours in fragments, rarely fast.As imperceptible as trail of sunAcross unmeasured distances of sky;I had not counted myriad sword-like raysCut sharply through the tranquil air, to lieUpon the quiet earth through passing days.But on this strange new clock, a second handStrides endlessly around the moonlike face;For not one breathless instant will it stand,But goes relentlessly at steady pace.I watch it, spellbound. Now, at last, I knowThat in this selfsame manner life will go.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Even with all the sorrow that hangs,and will forever hang, over so many households;even while war still rages;even while there are serious questions yet to be settled -ought it not to be, and is it not,a merry Christmas?Harper's Weekly, December 26, 1863

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

I question if Christmas can ever be “merry”
Except to the heart of an innocent child.
For when time has taught us the meaning of sorrow
And sobered the spirits that once were so wild,
When all the green graves that lie scattered behind us
Like milestones are marking the length of the way,
And echoes of voices that no more shall greet us
Have saddened the chimes of the bright Christmas Day, -—

We may not be merry, the long years forbid it,
The years that have brought us such manifold smarts;
But we may be happy, if only we carry
The Spirit of Christmas deep down in our hearts.
Three fold is the Spirit, thus blending together
The Faith of the Shepherds who came to the King,
And, knowing naught else but the angels' glad message,
Had only their faith to His cradle to bring;

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

We search the world for truth, we cull
The good, the pure, the beautiful,
From graven stone and written scroll,
And all old flower-fields of the soul;
And, weary seekers of the best,
We come back laden from our quest,
To find that all the sages said
Is in the Book our mothers read.